


Goner (Read: Boner)

by sandpapersnowman



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Car Sex, Grinding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(to date the most popular thing i've done, tumblr mirror <a href="http://sandpapersnowman.tumblr.com/post/29147538505/goner-read-boner">here</a>)</p><p>Adrenaline puts Chuck in an uncomfortable situation, and Mike accidentally makes it worse (read: better).
</p>
<p><i>"He is </i>straddling<i> the </i>gearshift<i> and his hand is on his hip, oh </i>God<i>, this can’t get worse."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Goner (Read: Boner)

“Chuck, would you just stay still for a second?”

“No, Mikey, it’s fine, just... Just drive slow, and it’ll be fine.”

“C’mon, Chuckles, I’d think you’d be up for this,” he jokes, his hand moving over Chuck’s hip.

Okay, yeah, ordinarily, he would definitely be all for Mike fixing one of the straps of his extra-safe seatbelt that had snapped just minutes before. After all, he’d been hanging onto his seat so tightly that he thought he might break his fingers, and he did not want to go through that kind of panic again.

But then Mike had screeched to a stop and turned to him, asking if he was alright, and Chuck had just nodded, still staring at the dashboard in disbelief.

He was alive. His seatbelt had broken and he was _alive_!

He felt like cheering, he felt like screaming about it, but then the huge rush of adrenaline had set in, and...

...And then he wasn’t sure if he should be so close to Mike, because suddenly all his senses were heightened, and Chuck had already been trying to ignore the very tiny, insignificant crush he’d been forming on Mike. No big deal. They just needed to get home so he could take a very cold victory shower.

But now Mike has taken his seatbelt off, and is leaning over the gap between their seats to try and figure out why the strap is broken. His hand is _on Chuck’s hip, holding him in place_ , and before Chuck can stop him, he’s got one leg over the gearshift to keep his balance. He is _straddling_ the _gearshift_ and his hand is on his hip, oh _God_ , this can’t get worse.

“Oh, geez, I think it got caught on something back here, lemme...” Mike shifts again, and now he’s got one knee on each side of Chuck’s thigh. _Oh God, it got worse._

 _Okay, breathe,_ breathe _. There is no possible way this can get worse, at least there’s that._

“Alright, I think I know what the problem is. It’s a tight space, but I think I can reach it if I...”

No. _No_. There is _no way_ that Mike is sitting up on his knees and hovering over him. This is some kind of fucked up dream, right? He’s going to wake up any second now, and then he can jump into the shower.

Mike’s got his hand just above Chuck’s shoulder, and he leans closer so he see behind the seat. Chuck can very plainly feel how warm Mike is, and that combined with the fact that he’s got a faceful of Mike Chilton’s neck makes him a goner.

He knows he’s hard now, and shrinks back against the seat. He desperately hopes that Mike doesn’t notice, and hopes even more that he’ll get off of his lap (God, he’s got _Mike Chilton on his lap_ ). But no, Mike thinks he’s giving him more room and presses closer, the hand beside Chuck’s head and above his shoulder gripping the headrest now.

Mike’s wrist barely touches his neck, but he can feel his pulse through it, and something about that is just intoxicating. He closes his eyes and tries to hold his breath, because maybe he can will the bulge in his pants away; but no, all that does is let him focus on the fact that he can feel Mike’s heartbeat bleeding into his pulse and--

“Mikey, _stop_.”

Mike freezes, pulling away.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His voice sounds even more panicked than usual, and that’s saying something.

“Get off of me, please,” he squeaks. Part of his heart breaks, because he’s said it so cruelly and Mike actually looks hurt. “Just drive us back, okay, man?” His hands are pushing at Mike’s chest, to no avail, and he moves his hands to Mike’s hips instead (definitely not sliding them there and enjoying the firm feel of his best friend’s sturdy torso under his hands, that’d be silly).

Mike frowns down at him, and sits up to grab both of Chuck’s thin wrists.

“What’s wrong with you, Chuck? I’m just trying to keep you safe here, I’m not gonna sabotage your... Seatbelt. Or... Something.”

Mike’s sentence falls away, and Chuck squeezes his eyes shut, ducking his head down. _Oh God, oh my God, he_ saw _. He’s going to kick me out of this car and make me walk home because he’s stupid Mike Chilton_.

“...Chuck?”

Mike’s voice isn’t mad or disgusted; he just sounds confused. Small victories, man.

He’s still not going to open his eyes or remove his chin from his chest, though.

“Yeah?”

“...You wanna tell me something?”

Chuck shakes his head the second Mike says it. _No, I don’t want to tell you that this is because of you, or that I have this huge dumb crush on you, or that you’re all I can_ ever _think about_ \--

“You sure?”

“Yes, Mike, I’m sure. Just get off of me so we can go home and forget about all of this, okay?”

The silence that electrifies the air around them is smothering him, and he can feel himself trying to take deep, slow breaths instead of the fast, nervous ones that are nearly shaking him now. He knows his entire face is red, and if he doesn’t get control of himself soon, he’ll be dripping tears onto Mike’s pants.

But Mike, the most stubborn, frustrating best friend a guy could ask for, doesn’t get off of him and return to the driver’s seat. No, instead, he moves his left leg over Chuck’s right one, leaning back on his heels and letting his calves frame Chuck’s thighs. His hands are gripping the headrest behind Chuck’s mop of blonde hair, and Chuck can feel every movement as Mike does it, his eyes on Chuck the entire time.

Under his bangs, Chuck’s eyes are wide open and accidentally focussed on Mike’s legs. Well, his hips. Alright, _fine_ , it’s the crotch of Mike’s jeans, because he just sat down on his lap and he is actually willingly about two inches from Chuck’s boner.

Mike... Is way too close for comfort.

The strangeness of the situation makes Chuck look up at him, confused and surprised.

As soon as they make eye contact, Chuck wants to wince away from the glare he’s getting, but he’s trapped between Mike’s legs and Mike’s forearms and there is a face pressing lips against his hard enough to crush him to the headrest, wow, okay, sure, let’s go with that.

“You could have told me,” is growled into his mouth, and Chuck figures that if Mike thinks he’s going to be in control after practically giving him a lapdance, he’s sorely mistaken.

...That was a bad choice of words.

Either way, his scatterbrained internal monologue doesn’t stop him from moving his hands from Mike’s hips, his fingers setting into the small of Mike’s back and grinding him forward. It gets him a pleasantly-surprised moan against his lips, and he decides that he can explain to Mike later  _why_ he didn’t want to tell him about this when his feelings first shifted from platonic.

On that note, he has waited _way_ too long for this, and barely hesitates when Mike’s tongue barely touches his bottom lip. Even on his lap, Mike is still just a little bit shorter than him, and Chuck has no problem tilting his head and taking control of the kiss. Mike’s not expecting it, and of course Chuck didn’t think he would, but the cracked, caught-between-a-groan-and-a-gasp whine that Mike makes has Chuck’s fingers tightening around his hips.

After a few too-long-and-not-long-enough minutes of careful biting and tentative tongues, Chuck is the first to pull away. “Dude, I’m gonna be honest, we should probably stop,” he says quietly, breathless and really not at all wanting to stop.

Mike kisses him again, softer, and followed by tiny kisses to the corner of his mouth and along his jaw. Chuck tilts his head back with a content, barely-controlled groan, and although he has to admit that he’d really like to keep going, they probably shouldn’t go any further while they’re inside Mutt.

Mike’s hands finally move from the headrest, one brushing Chuck’s bangs out of the way and the other sliding down the front of his shirt to _okay Mike has his hand on my erection I can deal with this._

“I don’t want to put this to waste, though,” he purrs against Chuck’s ear. “If we make a mess, Mutt’ll be fine. We’ll just clean her up after.”

Nobody warned him that if one day, he found himself with a hard, willing Mike Chilton draped over his lap in a car after a trip to downtown Motorcity, he would be anywhere _near_ this seductive. Or so good at getting what he wanted.

Nothing is fair about this situation. He’s trying to move his hips up against Mike’s hand without throwing him off of his lap, and he’s hardly getting any friction besides the gentle circles and occasional squeeze Mike is giving him. He’s also trying not to make as much noise as he could be, Mike’s mouth no longer breathing hot air onto his very sensitive ears, but instead closing high on his neck with gentle kisses and random bites. All in all, he’s a squirming, blushing mess, and he knows it.

After a few more seconds of giving in to the feeling, he pushes Mike away.

“I really don’t think we should, Mikey.”

Mike’s lips are swollen and red and wet, and he looks absolutely obscene with his mouth hanging open.

“Do you want to?” he asks, still grinning.

“Yeah,” Chuck answers truthfully. “But now isn’t the right place.”

Mike doesn’t say another word. Instead, he untangles his hand from Chuck’s hair and takes the other from between his legs. Chuck watches him with great interest as he peals his jacket off and tosses it in the driver’s seat, and when he regains his balance on Chuck’s lap, his hands move toward his own pants.

“Mike,” he begins, glaring at him, because he knows _exactly_ what Mike is thinking, and the answer is still Chuck suggesting they not dirty up Mutt’s interior.

...Okay, well, maybe not _exactly_. Maybe a ‘general idea’. Because he’s not really expecting to have his hand moved from Mike’s hips. He’s rendered speechless when Mike threads their fingers together, his palm pressed to the back of Chuck’s hand, and it seems really intimate and tender. Then Chuck finds out that Mike was only doing that to control his hand easier, and he finds his palm being ground up against not underwear, but Mike’s dick.

“You go _commando_?” he asks in disbelief, and Mike just keeps grinning. “Oh my God, you... _Tease_ , you goddamn _tease_ ,” Chuck whines, shaking Mike’s hand away from his so he can actually wrap his fingers around Mike.

He’s... Thicker than he expected. His free hand tugs Mike into another bruising kiss, and quickly finds out that Mike is also a lot more _expressive_ than he expected. Every downstroke is followed by a whimper or whine, and every time his thumb brushes his frenulum, it’s the strangest thing; his entire body shudders, and soon he’s just rocking his hips up into Chuck’s hand and down onto the lump in his jeans in time with Chuck’s thrusts.

He doesn’t bother to take the time to undo his pants; Mike is just as clingy as ever, and his arms are tightly wrapped around Chuck’s shoulders as Chuck jerks him off. Mike is rolling himself against his hand and his erection, and that combined with the rest of this situation is almost enough to set him off. Mike is panting and groaning right into his ear when he isn’t kissing him, or his face is buried in Chuck’s neck, and it occurs to him that this is _real_.

He knows Mike is impatient, of course, and in his mind it’s fast and reckless every time he’s thought about what this would be like, while in the shower or in bed (or that one time in the Antonio’s bathroom after they had decided to play spin-the-bottle and someone had given Mike beer and Jesus, there was _tongue_ ). But this time, under the hopeful assumption that this is going to happen again, he’s going slow. Painfully, steadily, pre-cum-has-been-leaking-out-over-his-fingers-for-five-minutes slow.

“Chuck, Chuckles, _Charlie_ , please, you need to... _Please_ ,” Mike groans, muffling himself by mouthing a large, round, dark hickey into the crook of Chuck’s neck.

Chuck shuts his eyes tightly, speeding up his hand and absolutely regretting not undoing his pants. Mike continues to be the best thing he’s ever had on top of him, and he kind of notices that Mutt is actually rocking with the inertia of Mike’s hips against his.

He only has a second to be smug about it, however, because not too long after that observation, Mike is pressing up against him the hardest yet, his body shaking and hips giving a few more futile thrusts up against Chuck. It takes him a second for everything to sink in, but the moment that it really, _really_ hits him is the same moment he feels wet heat pooling around his fingers, soaking into his shirt, and dripping down between them: the sounds of Mike Chilton’s orgasm are vibrating through his neck, and he has what is essentially the puddle that used to be Mike Chilton grinding on his painfully hard cock through jeans and boxers, and he’s gasping for air against _his_ neck, which is probably covered in hickeys now. He doesn’t even need to be touched. He’s pushing up into Mike as well, and can practically hear Mike smirking at the fact that Chuck just came in his pants.

It’s going to be a pain to clean himself up after this, but Mike just begged him to cum, called him Charlie (which he immediately decides will be used by Mike and Mike alone), and then got his cum all over his now-ruined shirt. He doesn’t regret a single thing, and from the long, lazy kiss he gets from a very satisfied Burner, he doesn’t think Mike does either.

**Author's Note:**

> just... dang. like i said, this is the most popular thing i've written to date (and one of the longest single-chapter/unit things), and i'm really glad that people apparently like it.
> 
> hope you enjoyed it too. :')


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